Legion
by NefertariHime
Summary: Naraku and the demons within him. Free-style poetry.


_I disclaim InuYasha and all trademarks contained there-in. Bonus points for whoever guesses the title reference._

**Legion**

I am the nameless tempter,   
he who spake unto   
Onigumo   
in that fateful night.   
Crouching on   
the wretched face   
of a wretched man,   
I hissed sweet temptations   
of the sway of her hips,   
the sheen of her eyes,   
her breasts bulging   
like silky spinerettes,   
and he was tempted.   
I am the spider,   
the webspinner,   
the firestarter,   
he unto whom all is owed. 

I am Kanna,   
she who is nothing,   
she who awaited the final fate   
of he,   
Onigumo,   
in the furthest shadow   
of the dank cave of yesteryear.   
Thence I surrendered   
all my power,   
all my freedom,   
and became one fragment   
of a broken mirror.   
For what is sacrifice   
if not made for power? 

I am old One-Eye,   
once the mightiest of my kin,   
and with mine eye I watched   
as Onigumo fell and rose,   
a spider phoenix,   
burning us all to ashes.   
In my mane, I carried with me   
my children, my mind,   
and the fate of my kindred. 

I was once a dragon,   
but too long in a spiderweb   
leeches the mind,   
and my memories are lost to me,   
like a cloud through the claws   
of a kit.   
I was drawn to he,   
to Onigumo,   
when he laid bare   
his soul, his body,   
for the use of lesser demons,   
and I thought, am I not greater?   
Am I not entitled?   
And my pride went before the fall. 

I am Kagura,   
the sweet music of windchimes   
as unto the gods themselves,   
but lost within Onigumo,   
and what fools we windwitches be   
to give up freedom   
for power.   
What is the wind   
if not free? 

I am Wide-Mouth,   
named for my mark and pride,   
or what it used to be,   
for in the deepest,   
darkest pits   
of Hell Incarnate,   
there is no mouth of which   
to be proud.   
No mark with which   
to stand out,   
from he who was   
Onigumo.   
And I am only   
one of many. 

I am Goshinki,   
mind-reader and born   
a beloved third.   
I read the mind   
of Onigumo   
in the untrustworthy light   
of a long-gone cave,   
and to the spider I whispered   
of her hips   
and her eyes   
and her breasts,   
as fair as spinerettes,   
and with my words   
the spider weaved,   
and opened to all of us   
the path to damnation. 

I am Horn,   
or so I think,   
for there are few names here.   
He names us   
when he releases us,   
and if we forget aught,   
he sees to it that it be our names.   
I seem to recall my body was large,   
and my eyes round,   
round and red,   
like the equinox moon,   
and a great, splendid horn   
rose from my mane,   
before I, the fool,   
was drawn to Onigumo,   
thence to search for power,   
and there to lose it. 

I am Kageromaru,   
the shadow boy-child,   
riding the gut   
of my beastly brother.   
I fly the ice like a gull,   
and my kinsman aids and abets,   
listening only to me   
and the blood-drenched whispers   
I murmur still.   
I must calm him,   
dull, half-witted Juromaru,   
for he is not used to dwelling   
in another's bowels.   
And we will be free,   
and we will kill,   
and we will taste blood again.   
We were one,   
and then we were two,   
and fiercer beasts than us   
you rarely saw.   
He will choose wisely   
to release us from Hell,   
for we are ice and blood,   
beast and shadow,   
and was there ever   
such a threat as we   
within Onigumo? 

I am...   
I am...   
I am Muso.   
I am Onigumo.   
The ghost spider of yesteryear   
who sold his soul   
for a slice of heaven.   
And then look,   
they went and killed her.   
This is my body they took,   
my flesh and my blood,   
and stealing my soul on top of it.   
For fifty years I languished   
in the depths of Hell,   
and this one taste of freedom,   
of salvation   
held in her face,   
younger, yes,   
but no less fair,   
this one taste does little   
to end my hunger.   
And we love her,   
and we hate her.   
Is there no sanity   
to be found within me? 

I am Naraku,   
whose faceted soul confines   
all the depths of Hell.   
There are some,   
shining and laughing,   
who will never be free,   
but most are wretched creatures,   
power-hungry and weak,   
each carrying their own torment,   
and they shall be released.   
The cursed shall walk the earth   
and gather to me,   
in symbolic perfection,   
the uniter.   
She carried it,   
and how we hated her,   
and how we loved her,   
and now it is spread   
and we must find it all   
that we may become me.   
One glorious hell   
born from the ashes   
of Onigumo.   
Out of many, one.   
Out of legions--   
Naraku. 


End file.
